A Hero's Welcome at Kings Cross
by smileintears
Summary: A chance meeting at Kings Cross teaches a lone traveler that there's more to London, and one of her favorite book series, than meets the eye. Technically and alternate ending; a simple one-shot- enjoy!


Hello! Before we begin, I'd just like to say that as much as I loved traveling with the Harry Potter trio since I was eleven, I was a tad miffed by the epilogue, as I'm sure at least few other were. This is simply my take on how I think the series should have ended. The official epilogue, in my opinion, wasn't bad, it just seemed a tad forced. So when I finally had the chance to travel to Ol' Blightly (with my own darling Englishman), this idea began to brew during the many train and underground trips. This will probably be my only Harry Potter fanfiction, so enjoy!

**_I do not own Harry Potter or Ribena: those belong to Glaxosmithkilne and J.K. Rowling, respectivlely._**

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><p>It was cold. Well, not exactly cold, but chilly- it would seem that it was always chilly in London. However that reality hadn't exactly sunken in for a lone traveler huddled in an uncomfortable mass on an empty bench at King's Cross St. Pancras International.<p>

She pulled her scarf tighter and gave a small sniffle. "Never," she muttered to herself. "Would I have ever imagined having to wear a scarf in the middle of _May_." Still, the charm of London and England as a whole was not lost to her. Already she was taken in by the overcast-skies, the distinctive accents, signature double-decker buses and backwards cars. But for all the charm and convenience that London's public transport could boast, the underground and train services threatened to ruin it.

"_I'm sorry to announce that the 15:30 First Capital Connect service to Brighton has been delayed…_" The traveler ran a hand through her hair and huffed. Again? Really? Next thing it would be cancelled. She twisted her legs to sit Indian-style and after finally settling began rummaging through her backpack to find a way to occupy her new-found free time. She pulled out a half-full bottle of Ribena- that would do well for a light snack, but nutritional facts weren't exactly an engaging read. She stuck her hand in her bag once more. Her fingers brushed against a hard cover. Confused, she pulled it from her bag. Red letters glimmered as they met the light: _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. _She laughed at herself and rolled her eyes- she couldn't help feeling that it was slightly appropriate. She buried the book's spine in her legs and began to read. Only on chapter 16? She had a lot of catching up to do…

For a while she managed to lose herself in a whole other Britain until the shriek of a child brought her back to reality: "Mummy! _Mummy_! I have to go _now_!" She looked up, looked down, and grimaced. That whining brat had made her lose her place. She resigned to staring at the page until her train came, but the station had other plans.

"Hey, Hey! Miss!"

She felt her blood halt. She didn't want to look up, but she did anyways. The creature that met her eyes was of average height, but a scrawny build. She got the impression it had seen more handsome days. The only visible skin were the dirty tips of ten fingers and sunken cheeks which only accentuated the heavy bags beneath dimmed eyes. Shaggy black hair was stuffed beneath a knitted cap and exploded in a wiry beard that failed to hide gnarly, rotted yellow teeth. The clothes that covered the lithe frame were faded, torn, and characteristic of a ragamuffin- nothing particularly eye-catching aside from a silvery cloth twisted around his waist in lieu of a belt. It looked like a piece of an old costume. Without meaning to, she made eye contact.

The stranger immediately began retreating."Ooh, uh, excuse me miss, I thought you were… someone else."

"Ye-yeah," she dared to breathe. "Sorry about that."

"Oh, no worries," the stranger suddenly took a step towards her. "S'not your fault." He kept their gaze steady.

The girl's breath hitched and her leg flung from beneath her in a nervous flinch. Her bottle clattered to the ground followed by the _whump_ of her book. She didn't notice as she grabbed her backpack, just to make sure it was still there.

"Oh," the bum bent down to pick up to lost bottle. "Lost your Ribena there." He offered it to the girl in a dirty fist.

"…Thank you." She grabbed the bottle's end. It felt heavier somehow. She gave it a shake. It was full.

That couldn't have been right; she had drunk over half of the thing on the express from Gatwick. She brushed it off- it wouldn't have been the first time she was so unobservant. Oh well…

"Pardon me miss, I don't mean to be rude, but you're not from here are you?"

He was still here? No one had told her how to deal with the loonies off the streets. Hell, sometimes she had problems talking to regular people! With no other ideas, she continued the conversation. "No, no I'm not. I'm actually from the U.S." She gave a small smile. "I'm visiting someone."

The loon's facial hair parted in a smile, almost like a stage curtain being pulled for Act I. "Ah, who you bothering with over here? Someone special?"

He had a knowing glint in his eye. She wondered why he even bothered asking. "Yes, actually. My boyfriend." Comforting warmth spread over her at his mention.

The stranger responded with a hearty laugh. "The yank-girl lost her heart to an Englishman! Ha ha, you meet in university?"

She let her blush fade. "Yes- he was an exchange student; more of a gentleman than I'd ever imagined, it must be something in the water."

The stranger's smile began to fade. "School…college; school… I loved school. I met my best friends there, met a girl. It was my life. And then, well…" His already clouded eyes became more distant and his lips parted. The girl recognized this expression- he was lost in memory.

She was curious now: "And?"

"And what?"

"What about school? Or your friends, or the girl?"

"Oh," he coughed and blinked. "Then my life happened. Lots of life happened. Sports turned to war and allies turned to enemies, then back to allies again…lots of life."

"There was a war?" Geez, was this guy ancient or just delusional?

"Yes- a big war! I was hero of sorts."

The girl laughed. She had decided on delusional. The loon now became less charming and more nerve-wracking. In the interest of safety she decided to play along. "Well Mr. Hero, it's an honor." She flashed a salute and extended her hand for a shake.

She didn't think he'd actually go for it, but a dirty hand wrapped around hers for a firm shake with a surprisingly steady grip. He laughed again. "That's me alright. Some might even say a messiah of sorts."

Yep, _definitely _delusional. She used his rambling to pick up her book. His musings became increasingly faint and she began to tune him out. As she bent over she noticed a torn-out newspaper article poking from one of his tattered pockets. She barley took notice, but on the way back up the photo on the article seemed to have changed. She blinked twice. It seemed to be moving, complementing the oddly-wrapped text. She shook her head and told herself to calm down.

The stranger proved to have impeccable timing as well as a terribly loud voice. "And what's this you're reading?" He ever-so-rudely grabbed the book from her hands. "_Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows?_ Really?" He gave her and incredulous look.

"I like it!" She gave him a glare that couldn't have meant anything other than "piss-off," half-expecting him to make some pathetic joke about "American tastes, or the lack thereof."

"Oh, not this garbage."

"It's internationally acclaimed, award-winning garbage." She snatched the book back in a fit of geek-bravery.

He simply rolled his eyes. "Still garbage- too romantic."

Her glared softened. She's met a fellow Cynic. "I'll admit that I think the ending was a bit crappy- I almost regret spoiling it for myself. It was like she was telling us what we wanted to hear, like a proper storybook ending."

The stranger gave her a gnarly smile. "Alright- I had a feeling you were a smart girl." He sighed. "I knew a smart girl like you once."

The traveler smiled and opened her mouth when, for the third time, she was rudely interrupted: "_The 15:45 First Capital Connect service to Brighton is now approaching…_"

Her eyes bugged and she scrambled to collect her belongings. "I'm sorry, that's my ride. I've gotta-"

"I understand." The stranger threw is hands up. "Thank you for listening, though."

"Yeah," she shrugged on her backpack and grabbed her book. "No problem." She looked up in time to see the stranger begin to walk away. Immediately, the girl thrust her hand into her pocket. "Hey, wait!" She ran to the man and pressed a crumpled ten pound note in his lithe hand.

His brow furrowed and his head began to shake. "No, no miss, I can't-"

"No, please, take it." She gave him a genuine smile. "He owes me lunch, anyways."

The stranger's expression easily changed from confused to snide. "Well, if he can't feed you on anything more than ten quid, you might want to reconsider whether or not he's worth commin' across a bloody ocean for!"

She laughed in return. "Thanks for keeping my company all this time." The train was now beginning to screech to a halt. She tuned and began to walk toward the platform.

"Hey-" she felt a hand on her bag. "You know that book's a lie, right?"

"Of course it is- it's fiction."

"No, no, no, it's a lie. There's a difference." He pointed a grubby finger in her face. "Every lie's got a bit of truth to it. Don't you forget that."

She fought off her curious look and with confidence, thrust her hand out for a final shake. "Thanks for talking to a little lonely yank."

He grasped it as firmly as before. "Thanks for listening, love."

She turned away and began to weave through the growing mob of people just hoping to end up in the cabin car in one piece. A simple tune sounded and the doors to the train closed. The traveler grabbed the last available seat and knocked her head against the adjacent window.

Through the glass, she heard a faint voice: "Hey!"

She looked out only to find the delusional stranger once again. His smile was obnoxiously wide- wide enough for her to read his lips. "A little bit of truth!" He pulled away his cap and parted the greasy hair from his forehead and began pointing furiously as something. A mark, a war wound.

A lightning bolt scar.

The "smart girl" glanced from her book, to her Ribena and back out the window. Her eye widened and her mouth hung open in an expression of realization. Despite whatever germs were left the snot-nosed child had had the seat before, her she pressed her face to the glass as the train pulled away. Her eyes began to ache as they rolled to the edge of their sockets to stare at the no-longer-mystery-man as the coach gained speed. Her mind was in frenzy. She was happy to lose herself in all the excitement and ideas until a faint vibration against her rear broke her confusion. With shaking fingers, she fumbled to answer her phone.

"_Hello honey,_" a familiar voice spoke. "_Listen, I'm sorry I couldn't meet you at the airport-_"

"No, no, it's no problem." She ran a hand through her hair. "Don't worry about it."

"_Well, I'm waiting for you at the station. How has London been treating you?_"

"Oh," She paused. "It's been…unbelievable."


End file.
